


The point still stands

by ignition



Category: Captain America (Movies), Daredevil (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, set after Avengers: Age of Ultron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 05:11:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3965653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignition/pseuds/ignition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes has never liked tea, it’s a fact. It’s something he found out this day, or maybe relearned is a better word for it. All he knows is that there’s this picture in his head of a woman pushing a cup into his hand and she’s got his eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The point still stands

**Author's Note:**

> I had a picture of Bucky sitting at a café all alone and sad in my head, and I desperately needed to get it out of there, then Matt showed up from out of nowhere. I might be half interested in writing more of this verse.
> 
> This takes place after Age of Ultron, in which Bucky wasn't involved (spoilers?), and after the first season of Daredevil, just in case anyone's interested or feels a need to know.

The tea tastes absolutely vile. It doesn’t smell terrible, looks half decent in that red-brown typical kind of way, and is warm enough for him to heat up the tips of his fingers. The point still stands though, Bucky does not like it. The only reason that’s what he ordered at this little corner café rather than a big steaming cup of coffee – he has never liked tea.

It’s a fact. It’s something he found out this day, or maybe relearned is a better word for it. All he knows is that there’s this picture in his head of a woman pushing a cup into his hand and she’s got his eyes. There’s even something in her smile that he can’t help but feel belongs to him too. Like that, if he smiled, his lips would curl up that way as well.

Bucky’s pretty fucking sure that the woman is his mother. Was his mother.

He pours some sugar into the cup, carefully swirls it around with the spoon in his left hand. It probably will still taste like shit, but it’s not like he doesn’t already feel tired, feels the days without sleep on the lids of his eyes. His body can take some extra sugar. Biting at his lip he notes how the spoon is slightly bent, fitted against his fingers, and glances to where the waitress is before putting it on the table and covering it with a paper napkin. He’ll be gone before they can ask any questions about it.

He sips at his tea as he finally puts his attention on the paper that’s been lying in front of him all this while. It’s one of those free newspapers anyone can grab from their very own containers on the street; this one has Captain America’s face printed on its front cover. Bucky still can’t allow himself to call him anything but that, even though he remembers him too. Captain America has always stood for what is good and noble, a self-sacrificing figure that protects the world. The mere fact that Bucky, the old one, the one from before, stood by his side once upon a time feels sacrilegious when he thinks about the kind of man he turned into. If someone like him can even still be called a man.

Mouth dry, Bucky folds the paper down the middle twice, making it a compact square to stuff somewhere where no one will find it. It doesn’t matter that there are thousands of the same print in the city, this copy shall wither and stay forgotten.

At a close movement Bucky looks up warily to find a man at his side.

“You keeping that?”

He’s talking about the paper, because _of course_ he is. Frowning, Bucky purses his lips. “I don’t think you have much use of it.” He says, because that’s the kind of person he is now, the kind that is ill-mannered to blind guys asking innocent questions.

He’s met with a smile, which only makes him frown harder. “Believe it or not, I am aware.” The man says, still sounding perfectly polite. “But I have friends who have nothing better to do during office hours than gossip, and for once I’d like if it was about something that doesn’t have to do with anyone I know.”

Staring at the quarter of Captain America’s face that is still visible in his hand Bucky bites down hard on his cheek, as if to wake himself up. It’s lucky he’s holding the paper in the right hand; otherwise it would probably be sort of ruined and torn by metal digits.

“You can have it.” He says and does nothing to give it up. It takes an empty out-reached hand for him to even raise it from his lap.

“Most kind, thank you.” Are the words he receives when he finally manages to push it into the waiting hand, which is ridiculous – it’s just a fucking paper. “I’ll see you around.” The stranger says, nodding civilly in Bucky’s direction before moving away.

Bucky can only snort and shake his head. Stares at the cup of tea in front of him and sighs. “Cheers.” He mumbles, taking another sip and watches as the blind man manages to not walk into anything or anyone outside the window in the drizzling rain. The tea still tastes vile; sugar did indeed do nothing about that. Bucky still drinks it all up.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked this, and that you could kind of see that this wasn't that sad of an ending (not really).


End file.
